


I am Sold

by phlossie



Series: Overgrown - James Blake Inspired [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Power Imbalance, Slavery, Stiles is an adorable naieve little fluffmunchkin who accidentally purchases a werewolf fic, Weres are Slaves!, allusions to past abuse, human Chattles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4998559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phlossie/pseuds/phlossie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s easier to hide, here in the darkness, but safer to crawl out into the light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am Sold

**Author's Note:**

> In case you missed it, this is written to time with 'I am sold' by James Blake. You dont have to listen to it to understand the fic though. :)

He’d had lost all sense of self in the Pens. 

 

Dissolved into the rhythm of obedience under the runners and sellers, unmoved by the brutality.

 

It wasn't his first time, nor would it be his last.

 

He’d forgotten what the forest felt like under his paws.

* * *

 

 

It had been an accident, Lydia had only wanted him to get a feel for the place. 

 

He hadn’t meant to buy. 

 

He felt ill.

 

The Were’ was perched precariously on the couch. Whole body tensed, like he expected to be struck at any moment. 

 

Stiles didn't know what to do.

 

* * *

 

 

“Will you be okay?” 

 

The barest of nods. 

 

* * *

 

 

He didn't know what to do, alone in the house. It was huge.

 

His owner had told him how to use the big blank walls as screens, how to raise or lower the temperature, alter the light levels, change the appearance of the room. 

 

He lay on the squashy white floor and studied the perfect white ceiling. 

 

Hours later he was woken by the faint whirr of the door. He froze where he was, waiting for the yelling to start.

 

His owner just strode past, muttering to no one. 

 

* * *

 

 

“I don't know what to do Lyds! He just shrinks into himself whenever I try to talk to him. God, I want to strangle whoever made him this way!” 

 

“Its gonna take time, you remember how aggressive Jackson was at the beginning, you have to show him you aren't going to hurt him. He’ll come round... Does ‘he’ have a name by the way?”

 

* * *

 

 

“A name?” He asked, startled out of his silence. 

 

Did he have a name...?

 

Once, a long time ago... 

 

* * *

 

 

“Derek”

 

“Oh, well, Hello Derek, I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced, I’m Stiles.”

 

He stared at the offered hand until it was awkwardly retracted.

 

* * *

 

 

“Can I go outside?”

 

Stiles startled off the recliner, shucking his Ipage onto the coffee table where it scattered out into a multipage spread. 

 

“Uh, yeah” He’d never actually opened the doors, but he knew he had a backyard somewhere. Lydia had said it was something people of his station should own. 

 

He found the right wall panel to swipe after a few goes and it lifted away, disappearing into the ceiling cavity with a barely audible hiss. 

 

The Were- Derek, stepped out onto the lightly dewed grass and stared up at the stars. Stiles was captivated by his expression, the first real feeling he’d seen on the Werewolf’s face since his arrival.

 

It could only be described as rapture. 

 

* * *

 

 

The next evening Stiles returned home to find the whole back of the house open to the lawned hill that ran down from it’s footings to a large stand of trees. The evening light was streaming into every crevice of the building and Derek was spread out on the grass, almost as if he had grown into it. 

* * *

 

 

That night Stiles lay on his bed and wondered where he had come from, where Derek’s family was. It wasn't a thought that had ever crossed his mind, the existence of Werewolf families, but he was sure they must exist. 

 

He didn't think it was something he could ask. 

 

Not yet.

 

* * *

 

 

He was going a little out of his mind with boredom. 

 

Finding the grass had been a welcome reprieve from the unending whiteness, but the tag kept him from straying far from the house and he couldn't get anywhere near the forest. 

 

His owner seemed far more interested in his bit of electrified plastic than in him though and for that he was grateful. He avoided asking questions lest he break the delicate calm. 

 

It would not be the first time he had been lulled into a false sense of security.

* * *

 

 

Lydia had suggested he should take Derek somewhere. 

 

Where though; where would he want to go, surely not back to any of the places he had been.

 

Stiles still thought it was too early to bring up family. 

 

He stood at the kitchen island and watched Derek sitting on the edge of the decking, legs dangling over the side. 

 

He was watching the trees at the bottom of the yard. 

 

* * *

 

 

The green light under the trees made him feel like he was underwater. He’d never stood amongst so many before.

 

“Do you maybe want to, I don't know, um, run or something?”

 

Derek shot him the strangest of looks, then pointed at the band of light blue light under the skin around his wrist. 

 

Stiles looked at it bewildered for a moment before he remembered. “Oh, right I’ll-” He reached out tentatively, asking for permission to touch. 

 

Derek watched him with a passive mask.

 

“Set Distance: unlimited.” It beeped and flashed and in a moment Derek was gone. 

 

Stiles didn't know what he had expected. 

 

* * *

 

 

Derek didn't know what he’d expected. 

 

Certainly not this... not complete freedom. 

 

He wondered how long it would take the chasers to catch him. 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles walked back to the house in the morning sun. 

 

* * *

 

 

The forest pattern was familiar under his paws, the path well trodden now, but today he followed a scragglier route. Twigs and bits still strewn where in other places they had been ground down or kicked away.

 

He was still there, sitting on the hill, plastic in hand. 

 

The house behind him flooded with afternoon light. 

 

* * *

 

 

Lydia stopped asking.

 

* * *

 

 

It was the new moon.

 

Derek stood in the shadow of the trees and looked up at the ghostly house. A gaping black hole marred its side, It had not closed since he left.

 

* * *

 

 

The bed dipped gently and he roused, blinking blearily into the darkness, the Starlight coming through the transparent wall leaving a lot to the imagination, but a warm, strong hand found its way into his.

 

The ghost of a breath sent chills across his skin. 

 

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry.”

 

 

“It’s okay.” 

 

 

“Thank you.”

 

 

 

“It’s okay.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, if you did, please, by all means, leave a Review or a Kudos!!! I love getting feedback of any kind. :)
> 
> I can be found on [ Tumblr. ](%E2%80%9D)


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